


A Touch of Light

by blankmuse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Magic, Magic Stiles, Stilinski feels, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2017-12-04 07:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blankmuse/pseuds/blankmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sheriff Stilinski isn't as oblivious as people assume he is. One night when Stiles is sneaking in late, he comes home to find his dad waiting for him with a big secret and an old book.</p><p>Magic using Stiles? Magic in the family?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Spark of Life

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting in my drafts on tumblr for months now. I figured I would give it a try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just did a few minor edits, Nothing new here... Yet, perhaps.

There had always been an affirmation that Stiles was special. John remembered how his wife kept telling him that while she was pregnant and how she was so sure that their son would go on to do great things because he was so incredibly special. He had been so excited the day his son was born, probably as much as she had been.

They had weathered through four miscarriages when they had lived in Sacramento. Four times they had gotten the good news that she was pregnant only to have the dreams of children ripped away from them over and over again. It was after he had gotten a better job in Beacon Hills that they got the news for a fifth time.

They had held their breath, not getting too excited, in case this one ended in disappointment again. It wasn't until Claudia was two weeks away from giving birth that they even started talking about baby names or decorating the nursery.

She kept telling John that their child was going to be special in ways that no one would even expect. He kept finding Claudia sitting in a rocking chair, her hands on her stomach, glowing and singing softly.

When he held his son the first time, he felt a swelling of pride in his chest. He watched with his wife the boy's first steps, seeing the energy bubbling out of him. Claudia just beamed with joy as their boy grew.

Then when she got sick, their perfect life began to crumble. Claudia sat in her hospital bed, petting Stiles' head as he slept and staring ahead of herself. John was beside himself with grief.

"I'm dying." She said on one of her better days, Stiles was at school and John was having lunch with his wife.

"No you're not. The doctors are going to figure this out and you're going to come home." John replied, his voice full of false bravado.

"No, John." She shook her head, taking his hand. "I put so much life into bringing Stiles into the world. I couldn't bear losing another one, I couldn't bare the disappointment in your eyes."

John frowned at his wife. That was the day that he found out about many more things than he was ever going to be ready to know in his life time. Things about the supernatural aspect of the world, that his wife had magic, and that their son would, too.

Claudia tried to prepare him the best she could, but with each passing day, she grew weaker and weaker. John couldn't look at his son the same after she finally passed. Here he was, a widower at such a young age, raising his special son by himself.

He tried his best to protect Stiles from the supernatural aspects of the world. He was not sure the boy was ready to know that he was only alive because his mother willed him into life with magic. Stiles took a long time to heal from his mother's death. They both did.

Then when Stiles was sixteen, Derek Hale returned to Beacon Hills. John feigned ignorance well, but he knew about the Hale's. When his wife ripped away the veil of innocence, she told him about the Hale's, Dr. Deaton, and several other things in the world. When the Hale fire happened, he was worried about those werewolves who had survived the blaze seeking vengeance on the sleepy Northern California town.

When no fallout followed the fire, he breathed a sigh of relief. He started working closer with the veterinarian, never letting on that he knew about things. Then weird things started happening in Beacon Hills. Laura Hale came back, then suddenly was gone again. Her brother followed her home, looking for her.

He had to pretend to not know what was going on. Pretend to not notice his son was lying to him, or the dramatic change in Scott, who he trusted with his son's life. After the whole affair with Jackson being used as some sick lizard puppet, John was worried his hair was going to turn completely grey and fall out.

He sat up, waiting for his son to get home, a leather book sitting on the table in front of him along with three ounces of Jack in one of his favorite crystal glasses. Stiles tried to sneak into the house, jumping out of his skin when he noticed his father sitting at the dining table.

"Ummm... Hi. I'm totally not sneaking in past curfew." He said dodgily.

"Sit." John said in a firm voice.

"Dad, it's been a really long day and I just want to--"

" _ **Sit**_." John said, leveling a hard look at his son.

Stiles closed his mouth and sank into the chair his father was indicating. "Am I in trouble?"

"Should you be?" John raised an eyebrow.

"No?"

"Stiles, I know you've been lying to me for the past few months." The Sheriff sighed and drank down the alcohol, steeling his nerves. "And I know why you've been lying."

"You do?" Stiles blinked at his father.

"Yes."

"Oh. Why have I been lying the past few months?" Stiles gave him a look, not sure if this was some sort of test.

"Scott was turned into a werewolf, you've been running around with Derek Hale, whom is also a werewolf, there was a whole mess of Jackson being some weird lizard puppet, Allison's father is a gun salesmen who also hunts werewolves, and you're being the idiot that you tend to be when it comes to dangerous things." His father said, his hands resting on the book.

Stiles was completely speechless, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he blinked at his dad. "How do you know that?"

"I've known for a while. Since before Scott got bit." John replied calmly.

"And you just never said anything? Just let me keep lying to you? That's messed up, O father of mine." Stiles made a face.

"Your mother said you were special." John said softly, looking at the book. "She did everything in her abilities to bring you to life. She left this for you."

Stiles looked to the book, raising an eyebrow. "A scrapbook?"

"A spell book."

Stiles blinked. "What?"

"Your mother used magic, Stiles." John replied, pushing the book to him. "I tried to keep all this from you until you were older, but with you gallivanting with the supernatural, I think that keeping this from you any longer would be criminal negligence."

Stiles looked at the spell book, pulling it closer and running his fingers over the leather cover. "Mom... Mom left this for me?"

"I can't help you with it, I wish I could, but I know how smart you are, Stiles, you'll figure it out." His father smiled at him, a slight bit of pride showing through.

Stiles was practically vibrating as he opened the book, running his fingers over his mother's elegantly slanted handwriting. Tears filled his brown eyes and he flung his arms around his father's shoulders.

He got up with the book under his arm and made his way to the door, pausing. "What did you mean that mom did everything in her abilities to bring me to life?"

John shook his head, getting up from the table. "That is something we can talk about later."

He patted his son's shoulder before heading upstairs, bone weary and tired. Stiles followed him up and went into his room, probably to spend the night reading the entire book and eating Adderall like candy. John sank onto his bed, pulling off his boots and socks.

He felt old and tired. He knew that giving Stiles the book was probably the best option for now, because it meant that his son could protect himself.


	2. Chapter One: Drops of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles POV--How exactly is he expected to sleep when he's got this cool new book to read? I mean, really dad?
> 
> Stiles stays up all night reading the book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of short. Any crits are welcome. I'm feeling sort of blasè about writing today. Well, I'm feeling out of everything today, really. I may come back and edit this later.

Stiles was vibrating as he took the stairs two at a time to get up to his bedroom, holding the leather bound journal to his rabbiting chest. This was the greatest thing his dad had ever given him and he couldn't wait to crack it open and start flipping through the pages. He pushed his door open with his foot and dropped his backpack on the floor, laying the book on the bed gingerly.

As much as he wanted to get right to reading, he needed a shower first. He didn't want to disgrace his mother's memory by opening her spell book smelling like the locker room with a dash of were wolf rank. Stiles went about quickly showering and dressing for bed quickly, having to take off and put back on his pants twice because he put them on backwards. He skidded across his bedroom, snatching up the leather book and setting himself up in a comfortable pile of pillows to start looking into the old tome.

There was a letter resting against the first page of the book and Stiles' breath hitched as he recognized his mother's delicate, curly handwriting. He lifted the light blue stationary from the book and unfolded it, chewing on his lip anxiously. He held the letter in his long fingers, tears welling in his eyes as he read it over.

> _To my dearest Stiles,_
> 
> _I had hopped that I would be here to teach you everything I know, but it appears that my time in this world is quickly approaching it's end. So instead I am leaving you this book filled with my spells and words of wisdom for you._
> 
> _I've always known you would be special. Know that there is nothing that will ever make me lose my pride in you. I hope that this will be of use to you. I can already feel your growing abilities even though you are so young now. It makes me warm to think of what kind of man you'll grow to be._
> 
> _Take care of your father for me, dear. He has struggled with coming to terms with my impending death and the world I've thrust upon him._
> 
> _I love you so much._
> 
> _Your mother,  
>  Claudia Stilinski_

Stiles had to put the paper down to wipe his eyes before his tears sullied the letter. With all the crazy things that had been happening, he hadn't thought about his mother in a while. Now the feelings of sadness threatened to overwhelm him and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"I love you, too, mom." He whispered softly, touching the paper lightly, as if it were delicate and precious. "I love you, too."

He folded it and put it back where it was, opening the book more to glance at the pages. The book was all written in his mother's same handwriting. Each spell was labeled with a description of what it does before the actual spell was lain out.

He flipped through the pages, reading each one with a smile. There were little notes all through the book, encouraging words or tips. It was like having her light hand on his shoulder as she leaned over his shoulder and helped him with his homework.

It was one of his favorite memories to retreat into. Him sitting at the kitchen table with cookies and milk working on his homework. His mother would be working on dinner and dancing with the radio. He would call her over to help with things he couldn't figure out and she would nom on his neck, making him giggle loudly. His dad would come home and the three of them of them would have dinner together.

Stiles shook his head, clearing it and rubbing his eyes. He looked to the clock and groaned. Somehow in the lapse of him reading the book and daydreaming, it had come on five in the morning. He closed the book carefully and stretched himself.

"I'll just skip school today." He said to himself, closing his bedroom door, and climbing back into bed. He smiled at the book sitting on his night stand, patting it with his long fingers. "Night, mom."

Stiles yawned widely and rolled over, falling right off to sleep. He was waken two hours later by the loud buzzing of his phone. With a groan he put it to his ear.

"Yeah?" Stiles yawned, squeezing his eyes closed.

"Dude, where are you?" Scott grumbled. "Allison is ignoring me outright today and I need moral support."

"I'm not coming." Stiles replied, rolling on his back and scratching his stomach. "I didn't get to bed until after five, dude. There is no way I could have been coherent today."

"What? Why didn't you get to bed until so late? Come on, Stiles. I'm dying here. Could you please come?" Scott's pout was evident through the phone.

"Sorry, man. I needs me some z's. Besides, I have a date with a book today. Very important." Stiles yawned, stretching.

"What book?"

"My dad gave it to me last night. Something my mom left me." Stiles replied, looking to make sure the book was still there. "I'll tell you about it after school."

"You suck. I'll stop by before work then." Scott huffed.

"Yep. Love you, too." Stiles laughed, yawning. "See you after school then."

"Bye." Scott grumbled and hung up.

Stiles stretched, getting up to go to the bathroom before he crawled back into bed, curling up and dozing right back off. For the moment, everything was right in his world and he felt warm and happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be from Derek's POV, I think.


	3. Chapter Two: Petrichor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Derek already sensed something but couldn't really place it until it happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This probably takes place several months after chapter one and two.

There was a heaviness to the air that day. Like a thunderstorm brewing on the horizon filling the air with ozone and static. Derek wasn't exactly sure if this was just because it actually was going to storm, even though the skies over Beacon Hills were blue and cloudless, or if something else was happening.

It had been a pretty quiet week. Nothing too supernatural had happened. Scott and Stiles seemed to be staying out of trouble. Peter had stayed to himself and kept his sass to a minimum. Isaac had managed to keep Boyd and Cora out of the city proper while things settled a bit. Even the Alphas seemed to be hanging back.

However, there was just a sense that today something was going to happen. Something explosive.

Derek leaned against the frame of the huge windows of the loft apartment he was sharing with Peter. If he was being honest with himself, the quiet made him even more anxious than knowing an attack was coming. It meant that there was plotting going on. Derek wasn't keen on the idea of plotting, because it usually meant something horrible was going to happen to him or his pack. He was getting quite tired of horrible things happening to him and his pack. He even felt a little bad when something happened to Peter and he hated him.

So when the sky seemed to dim without clouds being responsible for it, he began to worry. He grabbed his jacket and went for the stairs at a jog.

"Where are you going?" Peter asked lazily from the couch. "Hopefully not to do something stupid. I would really hate to be the one to explain to your precious puppies that you went and got yourself killed."

"I'm going out. And it's really none of your business, Peter." Derek growled a little, though he really didn't have the umph in it.

"Touchy, aren't we? Geeze, you don't have to be so secretive. I'm not going to ruin your plans, nephew." The older werewolf said, picking at his nails.

"That does not instill any more trust in you." Derek rolled his eyes. "Stay put."

"Yes sir." Peter said, even giving a sarcastic salute.

Derek shook his head, deciding not to acknowledge his uncle's attempt to get a rise out of him. He took the stairs two at a time, walking quickly to the door. He peeked his head out checking before actually stepping out into the alleyway. Outside the air seemed even thicker, almost like smog had descended into the valley.

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, the air tingling on his tongue in a way he had never quite experienced before. Well, he had experienced it before, just not quite this thickly. It was a sensation he got when he was around Doctor Deaton, a sensation that he had begun to associate with magic. Except this particular tingle didn't have quite the same taste to it.

He frowned a bit and started walking quickly to the street, both hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched to make anyone who might want to stop him for conversation think twice. As he moved further into town, the thickness of the air seemed to get stronger as the sky seemed to get darker. It wasn't until he was almost right on top of the house that he realized where he was. He was standing out in front of the Stilinski house with Stiles' jeep parked outside and no sign of Sheriff Stilinski's cruiser.

He frowned a bit and let his eyes flood red for a moment, seeing the torrents of magic flooding around the house, pulling from the very air around him. Derek had a very bad feeling about this and went around back of the house, looking up to the bedroom of the boy first before spotting him in the back garden.

Stiles was crouched in a patch of dirt he had cleared of grass, drawing in it with a stick. His hair was sticking out from under his hat and his usual over shirt was discarded onto a pick-nick table. There was a think old leather book carefully lain on a cloth next to him which he kept looking back to as he drew out symbols in the dirt.

"What the hell are you doing?" Derek said, frowning.

Stiles startled , his foot scuffing up all the work he had been doing and the energy that had been flowing to him rushing quickly back out into the world. "Derek? What the hell, man. You really shouldn't sneak up on humans. It's completely rude."

It was the first time Derek had really been alone with Stiles all summer, having seen him a few times with Scott. He hadn't really taken the time to analyze the changes that Stiles had gone through over the past few months. He was wearing hipster glasses and a beanie, his hair was several inches long now and the over all look suited him much better than the buzz cut had. There was something very different about him though. An energy that he could see vibrating around him with his alpha senses.

"What were you doing?" Derek asked again, crossing his arms. "Other than alerting anything paranormal what your location was."

"What?" Stiles blinked at him.

"You were channeling all the energy in the air around you. It was literally darkening the sky." Derek made a motion to the air around them. "I followed that right to you, what makes you think that other things wouldn't?"

Stiles blinked a few times, rubbing the back of his head. "I was concentrating really hard. I didn't need to draw that much energy, so I must not have been paying attention." He looked over his shoulder at what he was working on and groaned. "Damn it! You made me erase half of it."

Stiles crouched back down, swiping his hands over whatever he had been doing, erasing it all away and smoothing the dirt. Derek frowned and walked around to the other side of the patch, crouching down again.

"You didn't answer my question." Derek said, looking to the book laying on the cloth. "What is that?"

"It's my mother's journal." Stiles replied. There was no uptick in his heart beat, so he wasn't lying.

"What were you doing?" The alpha asked for the third time.

"I was trying to put a protection ward on my house and yard." Stiles replied, again no uptick.

"Ward? Like magic?" Derek asked, an eyebrow raised, skeptical. "You have magic?"

"Yep." Stiles gave him a bit of a grin, before going back to what he was doing, drawing out the lines. "Oh, by the way, my dad knows about werewolves."

"Pardon?" Derek's eyebrows shot up.

"It's a really long story. I'll explain when I'm done with this. Now shut up, I have to concentrate." Stiles went back to what he was doing.

Again the air started to get heavy around them, though this time there seemed to be much more control on the boy's part. Ozone filled Derek's mouth and he made a face at the burn. He wasn't sure what was happening or when exactly Stiles had gotten the ability to perform magic, but he found himself transfixed on the boy's concentration. Each line went down precisely where it was shown in the diagram, the lines glowing lightly with a throbbing energy that Derek realized the only reason he was seeing it was because he was still using his alpha senses.

Stiles paused and looked to the book before putting in the final few lines and the entire thing lit up brightly, the glow actually bouncing off of their skin. This glow wasn't just something he was seeing because of his senses, this was something just about anyone watching would see. The lines throbbed two or three times before they melted away into the ground, leaving the ground smooth.

Stiles sat back, pushing his glasses up and wiping his forehead. "Well, now that that's done, what's up, sourwolf?"

"You were telling me how your father knows about werewolves?" Derek stood up, reaching a hand to help the boy up.

Stiles took his hand and pulled himself up, bending to scoop up the book and it's fabric that it was laying on carefully. "Yep. He knows. I need a drink."

With that the teenager grabbed his shirt and waved for Derek to follow him, the book tucked under his arm. Derek hesitated before following him into the house. Stiles took a moment to move laundry from washer to dryer before he slipped into the kitchen, laying the book down on the table and getting out two sodas. He tossed one to Derek who caught it easily.

Before Stiles would talk again, he downed about half the soda and smacked his lips, leaning against the counter. "So, end of last year after all that stuff with Gerard and Jackson being crazy Dad was waiting up for me with that book." Stiles nodded at the journal that was placed on the table. "And he basically told me he's known about werewolves and hunters and all that jazz for ages. Since, like, before my mom died."

The boy got quiet for a moment and looked down, scuffing his toe on the linoleum floor. "My mom was magic. Like really magic. She and dad had tried having kids and tried having kids and then she basically used magic to have me. And it killed her, but before it did she told dad about everything."

"So your dad knew I was a werewolf the entire time?" Derek blinked, opening the can of soda.

"Basically. He didn't really think that you were the one doing the killings, by the way. He said that a lot of the weird stuff happened before you or Laura even came back to Beacon Hills and he hated seeing you being all miserable after all the horrible stuff that happened to you." Stiles shrugged a bit and looked up at him. "Also, he is completely disappointed in you for making more werewolves, but he's pretty sure that the ones you turned were all miserable. I mean Isaac was basically treated like a punching bag, Boyd had no friends, and Erica was sick."

Derek flinched a bit at the mention of Boyd and Erica. The guilt that he had been ignoring welled up in his chest.

"You know what happened to Erica wasn't your fault, right?" Stiles looked up at him, frowning. "It was those alpha bastards."

"They were my pack, I should have been working harder to find them." Derek said firmly.

"Not even you have the ability to see through walls, Derek." Stiles shook his head, finishing his soda. "And Boyd is alive. Though he's still completely mental. Also, you got your sister back, so there is that, too."

"That doesn't make me feel any better, Stiles." The Alpha sighed and sipped at the soda. "So, you've got magic now."

"I do. I spent all summer practicing and learning." Stiles beamed a bit, proud. "I already warded Scott's house to keep Mrs. McCall safe. I was going to be doing your place next, I just have to make modifications to the spell to get it to work on concrete."

Derek stared at him, raising an eyebrow. "You are going to put a protection ward on my apartment? Why?"

"Because, dude, you need to keep your fuzzy ass alive to take care of your betas and keep that creepy corpse uncle of yours from devouring babies in the dark."

"I'm pretty sure that Peter doesn't eat babies." Derek snorted. "At least, I hope not. If he is eating anyone, it's sarcastic teenagers."

"Oh nooooooo." Stiles laughed. "I'll have to remind him that I probably don't taste very good. All gristle and bone, I'm afraid."

Derek smiled a little, sipping his soda. "You know magic is dangerous, right?"

"I got the gist of it, yeah." Stiles looked to the leather book. "Use too much of it or put too much power into a spell and it can kill you. I haven't had a chance to talk to Deaton about it, but I'm pretty sure if I get stuck on something he's the one I should go to to ask. He must've known I was magic when he gave me the ash to put around the rave."

Derek thought about that and nodded a bit. "That is completely possible.You really should talk to him before you get yourself into trouble with this, though. You're being very noticeable with it and it's dangerous for you to be noticeable with magic while that Alpha Pack is in the area."

"Awww, are you worried about me, Derek?" Stiles batted his lashes at the alpha. "Don't worry, I've been practicing pretty discretely. I was just concentrating really hard earlier. The wards my mom put up were trying to rebuff mine even though they were too weak to do anything for the house anymore."

"You still need to be careful."

"I will be." Stiles nodded. "I'm no where near ready to die." He grinned a bit and scooped up the book, heading upstairs.

Derek stood there a moment before following the teen. "When are you going to ward my apartment?"

"As soon as I figure out if just using chalk will work. I think it will. I have some white chalk somewhere around here." Stiles laid the book down on the bed and started digging through things.

With a triumphant shout, he pulled out a thick piece of side walk chalk that looked like it had seen better days. Derek watched as the boy snatched the book up and jogged back outside. He followed, more to make sure Stiles didn't manage to blow himself up than out of curiosity. Or so he told himself.

Stiles opened the book to a different spell and crouched on the concrete outside of his back door and started scrawling the symbols precisely. Derek watched, fascinated as the runes glowed and then vanished into the concrete.

Stiles grinned up at him. "Looks like it works."

"That was a different spell." Derek nods at the paper.

"Proximity alert. It'll let me know when someone comes onto the property so you can't sneak up on me anymore." Stiles laughed and stood up, stuffing the chalk into his chest pocket, dusting his hands on his pants before picking up the book. "I can totally hook you up with wards now."

Derek nodded, feeling a bit appreciative about it. "Thank you, Stiles."

"What was that?" Stiles smirked a bit. "The great an powerful Mr. Alpha thanking me?"

The boy preened a bit. Derek rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"Would you rather I growl at you and gnash my teeth?"

"No, a thank you is muchly appreciated~" Stiles said in a sing songy voice. "Ready when you are."

"We'll have to take your jeep, unless you want to walk."

"Are you kidding me? It's August and hot as balls." Stiles shooed him back into the house. "We are definitely taking the jeep."

Derek followed Stiles. The boy's smell had changed. It tasted of electricity and ozone with a tingle to it that sat on the tongue and the back of his throat long after the magic was done being performed. Actually, the more Derek thought of it, it hadn't really changed. It had gotten stronger. That taste had always been there, an underlying note to the musk smell of Stiles that was Irish Springs Soap and Old Spice mixed with a bit of sweat. There was a rolling power underneath the surface all along and Stiles was letting it out. Fostering it and Derek didn't know if he how exactly he should feel about this turn of events. He didn't like how it was sitting in his middle, though. This feeling that he couldn't exactly put his finger on.

He just hopped that it wasn't a sense of dread. If magic killed Stiles' mother, Derek could only assume that magic was probably going to kill the boy, too. That was if the Alphas didn't kill him for having magic first.

Then it happened. Just as Stiles was passing an interception, something hit the back of the jeep with enough force to send the vehicle into a wild spin. Derek threw out his arm to hold Stiles back from slamming his head into the steering wheel as the jeep spun, rocking as it came to a stop and threatening to roll over. Stiles' eyes were wide as he looked to Derek.

"What the hell was that?" Stiles said in a high pitched voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hi. Well this is happening again.
> 
> Also, cliff hanger because I'm evil. -skips off-


	4. Chapter Three: Conductor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While practice makes perfect, there is only so much it can do if you've never used something in the method it was meant to be used. Stiles was about to take a crash course in using actual attack magic and it was going to be a pretty awful experience if he was absolutely honest with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't keep you kids waiting long did I :D

The jeep spun around three full revolutions after something hit the back of it, sending it careening to the other side of the street. Stiles felt like his stomach had been left back where they had started the spin, probably just after Derek's mom arm action hit his chest. The vehicle rocked after it had stopped spinning, threatening to tip right on over but it settled on all four wheels, the engine kicking a few times before puttering right off. Stiles quickly shifted the vehicle from drive to park just in case and turned the ignition off.

Stiles eyes were wide as he looked to Derek, his voice high in his throat. "What the hell was that?" He croaked a bit at the last word.

He was scared to look back. The best case scenario was it was just another vehicle and he had gotten into his first accident that involved another car and not some supernatural entity trying to kill him. The most likely, and thus worst case scenario, was that it was some supernatural entity trying to kill him. 

Derek turned in his seat to look around for whatever it was that had hit the jeep, his arm still across Stiles' chest in a protective manner. The street was empty. There was no vehicle or wounded animal or anything to suggest that the jeep should have gone careening and leaving rubber loops on the asphalt.

Stiles swallowed and looked to Derek, about to ask if they were maybe just hallucinating when a large man reached into the window of the jeep and grabbed the alpha, attempting to drag him from the seat. Derek let go of Stiles and snarled at this intruder, claws and fangs extended. Derek was still secured by the seat-belt, so the assaulter was getting nowhere with pulling the assaultee out of the cab. For all intensive purposes it was like Stiles wasn't even there to the perpetrator of the attack. Which wow rude.

Stiles wasn't about to be completely ignored after this douche hit his baby and sent her dizzy enough to faint on him. He fumbled with something and pulled out two vials, blue and silver, and poured a little of each vial in his hands quickly. He grabbed hold of Derek's jacket and jerked him back a bit and threw the powders in his hand into the other man's face. As they mixed together in the air, there was a glow and a sparkle for just the slightest moment before the powders ignited together in the man's face in a bright almost magnesium flame intensity.

The attacker stumbled back yowling, and swatting at his eyes as the fire followed him. Derek flinched back a bit, having gotten caught with the blast between him and the other man.

"The hell was that?" Derek rubbed at his eyes, almost like he was dazed.

"That was a very potent little fire spell." Stiles said, hitting the buckle on Derek's seat belt before hitting on on his own, reaching back into his backpack and pulling out a vial of red and black powders. "It's one of the more basic ones."

Derek blinked a few times to clear his vision before he climbed out of the jeep. "This is the guy who attacked Isaac at the hospital." He growled, sprouting his claws again.

"Lucky us." Stiles grumbled, mixing the new powders together in a small round glass vial. "Keep him distracted for me and move when I tell you to."

The werewolf shot the boy a skeptical look before nodding a bit, running at the other wolf. It appeared that the effects of the flash was affecting the other wolf a lot longer than it had Derek, which was a good thing. Stile added just a little of a liquid from leather pouch and shook it really good.

Derek was slashing and clawing at the other werewolf. Even though it took the attacker a minute to recover, he was now giving as good as he was getting and proving to be quite a bit stronger than Derek seemed to be. 

Stiles muttered under his breath, the vial in his hand starting to glow a dark purple color almost. He kept his eyes on the two wolves, counting as the glow intensified.

"Derek! Now!" He shouted.

Derek dived out of the way as Stiles lobbed the vial at the other werewolf. The vial exploded just before contact and a bright purple smoke and glow emitted from where the vial had been. Acid smelling, the smoke swirled and twisted for a moment before immediately seeking out it's intended target, flooding into the wolf's mouth and nose quickly.

"Cover your face! Don't breath that in." Stiles hollered, as he set about mixing another thing.

Derek obeyed, covering his mouth and nose and moving back quickly. The other wolf roared and tried to get away from the smoke, but it clung to him, until it was all gone. The attacker stumbled back, his pupils wide as he swayed a bit.

"Pinch of this and we're in business." Stile muttered, mixing yet another little vial as the attacker fell back on his ass.

Derek was staring at the werewolf sitting on the grass, swaying like he was out of his mind on some kind of hallucinogenic drug. The other wolf was even drooling on himself, completely human looking.

"What the hell did you do to him?" Derek looked to the boy as he started shaking another vial of stuff.

"Put him on a bad acid trip, I would think." Stiles replied, tossing the other vial at the werewolf, black smoke curling around him for a moment before turned to a sticky, sort of tar like substance. "I honestly didn't think it was going to work on him. I guess it's a good thing it calls for a bit of wolfsbane in order for it to work anyway."

"So he's drugged and poisoned?" Derek looked to the wolf who continued to sway in a circular sort of motion.

"Yes." Stiles jumped out of his jeep to see the damage. He whined a bit running his fingers over large claw marks along the back passenger side of the power blue vehicle. "Awww, baby, he really hurt you, didn't he?"

He cooed at the vehicle, patting it before going to make sure the engine would turn over. After a minute it puttered to life and he sighed with relief. Derek was busy crouching in front of the other wolf, waving his hand in his face and grumbling under his breath. Stiles walked over, pouring some more powders into his hand. He pushed Derek to a side and bent, blowing the powder into the face of the attacker wolf. The powders mixed in the air, turned purple and as the wolf breathed them in, his eyes rolled and he slumped back, snoring loudly.

"That should keep him out long enough for us to get the fuck out of here." Stiles dusted his hands off, small sparks shooting from the different powders on them.

"How long have you had that book?" Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles.

"Since before the end of last school year." The teen shrugged and headed back to his jeep.

Derek stared at him a bit. "You've only had it three months and you're already throwing things like that around?"

"Dude, those are basic magic 101 stuff." Stiles grinned and got into the driver's seat. "Get in. I don't want to be here if someone calls my dad. He'll smack me upside the head."

Derek looked back at the wolf before climbing into the jeep. Stiles quickly pulled the jeep back off the curb and onto the road, speeding off away from the scene. He was shaking, his eyes focused on the street. To be honest, the second spell was supposed to do something much worse, but he didn't feel like airing that to Derek. He had grabbed the wrong vial when he was mixing things and ended up with a spell he didn't even intend on using.

He had had every intention of doing much worse to the wolf that they were leaving behind. If he had grabbed the right vial, he might of even killed the other wolf. His stomach went rancid and he threw the jeep into park as soon as they were at Derek's apartment, stumbling away from the vehicle as fast as he could get unbuckled, unloading his stomach beside a dumpster. He had meant to kill the wolf and he would have without a second thought, and the thought of that made him sick.

Derek turned the jeep off and grabbed Stiles' bag, going over and rubbing his back in an almost comforting manner. "Are you going to be okay?"

Stiles nodded a bit, spitting a bit more of the bile that was caught in his throat. "Yeah. I just need a minute. I've never used that stuff practically, so it was a bit--overwhelming."

His mother made it very clear in her writings that killing was bad for a magic user to do. It was very bad. It tainted their powers and could lead them to go insane. However he had been completely ready to kill that wolf and he didn't know why.

Stiles stood up, wiping his mouth on his arm, taking his backpack from Derek. "Let's get your place warded."

Derek was quiet, watching him. Stiles raised an eyebrow at him and his scrutiny. The alpha didn't say anything and just lead the way into the building. Stiles squared his shoulders and followed, fighting down the nausea that threatened to come back up.

Peter was lounging on the couch when they got upstairs and he cracked an eye open when they came inside. "You left and came back with a pet? I thought we agreed no chew toys, Derek."

Derek growled at his uncle. "Must you be so annoying?"

Peter looked like he was considering his answer, his head tilted at a sassy cant and his lips puckered a bit. "Mmmm, yes."

"I could knock him out if you want." Stiles said dryly, lifting his bag a bit.

Peter cackled at that and stood up from the couch. "Oh, I would love to see you try. You're little more than a meat-treat, Stiles. And while I do admire your gumption, you're probably the most useless thing that Derek keeps around."

Derek's eyebrows were raised and he looked to his uncle and then back at Stiles. "I really wouldn't call Stiles useless."

"No? I suppose he does make a good distraction." Peter mused a bit, tapping a clawed finger to his chin.

Stiles pulled out two vials from his pocket and just poured a little of each in his hand. Peter tilted his head a bit like a cat considering a mouse. He smirked a bit as the teen walked closer, almost like he was asking what the boy was going to do with a fist full of dirt. Stiles batted his lashes at the creepy corpse wolf and blew the dust at him.

At first Peter just laughed, then the dust him him and he swooned a little. "Hey, what did you just--" The thud of him hitting the floor was satisfying.

"Sweet dreams, pedowolf." Stiles said in a sing songy voice, dusting his hands off over Peter. "Call me useless. Ha. I beg to differ."

Derek snorted and shook his head. "You were going to ward the place, remember?"

"Right. Gonna get right on that." Stiles dropped his bag on the table before ducking into the bathroom to rinse his hands of the powders and get the taste of stomach acid out of his mouth.

He looked up at himself in the grungy mirror. There was a bright ring of gold around his pupils. He blinks a few times and the gold subsided back into the honey brown of his eyes. He shook his head and splashed water on his face, calming himself down.

"Okay, Stiles. You can do this." He muttered to himself, drying his face and heading back out into the other room. "Alright. Let's get this done."

Derek was busy prodding his uncle, almost like he was amused that Stiles had knocked him out. Amusement suited Derek. It was something that Stiles wasn't sure he had seen before. Sarcastic amusement, yeah, because Derek was a sassy ass. But genuine amusement? He couldn't really be sure.

Stiles grabbed his bag and book, crouching on the floor and opening the book to the appropriate page. He dusted the floor of dirt and grime before he started laying his lines, concentrating.

Derek stopped prodding his uncle and looked to the teen, watching each movement. Stiles felt the hair on the back of his neck prick a bit at the watching but he had to keep his eyes on his work lest he messed it up and had to start over. The lines glowed intensely and then melted away into the hard wood floor as soon as the final line was done.

Stiles stayed there for a long moment, the gold ring was back. He could practically feel it because he could see the magic lines in the floor even though they weren't physically visible anymore. He flicked his eyes up at Derek, who's eyes were red.

They stared at one another for a long moment before Stiles stood up slowly. He blinked away the gold again, and bent, picking up his bag and book.

"I'll put a proximity one up, too." Stiles said with a cheery clip.

"Your eyes turn gold." Derek commented softly.

"They do? I hadn't noticed." He could feel his heart uptick and he cussed to himself.

"Is that part of the whole magic thing?" Derek made a motion to the floor.

"I have no idea. Mom didn't write about that in her journal. I would imagine so." Stiles shrugged and moved over to the stairs, crouching to start the next spell, turning the pages. "That or I've used a lot of magic today and it's just showing that."

Derek moved to stand behind him, watching as each line was lain in chalk on the floor. Stiles licked his lips, feeling a bit weird at the audience to his work. Again the marks glowed brightly and melted into the floor. Stiles stood up and turned and Derek was closer than he had thought he was.

Derek was watching him with his alpha eyes on. Stiles swallowed, his eyebrows risen up over his glasses as Derek leaned in closer. Stiles licked his lips, his heart pounding a bit.

"Each time you do something it gets bigger." Derek said, reaching and pulling the glasses off the teen's face. "It's not beta gold. It's brighter."

"Ummm. Cool?" Stiles breathed a bit, feeling very uncomfortable with all the scrutiny.

"You even smell different." Derek punctuated that statement by taking a deep breath. "Like a thunderstorm on the horizon. I noticed this earlier, but it's gotten stronger."

"Okay, that's a bit creepy." Stiles stepped back from the alpha. "I guess magic smells like thunderstorms?"

Derek grunted and handed Stiles back his glasses. "Must be." He moved back away from the teen.

Stiles put his glasses back on, calming himself down and running his fingers through his hair while pulling his hat off. He looked around the apartment before bending to gather his bag and the book up.

"If someone is coming there should be little lights that appear for the proximity thing. They should only appear in your eye line because you're the name I scribed into the ward." Stiles shifted the bag onto his shoulder.

"Thanks." Derek said, genuine appreciation coming through in his words. "Peter really is wrong about you being useless."

Stiles beamed a bit, preening. "Oh, I know. I'm pretty awesome. Your creepy necro-monster uncle doesn't even ruffle my feathers with that whole chew toy b.s."

"Then why did you knock him out?" Derek raised an eyebrow.

"Clearly I didn't want him to be distracting me with his sassy ass comments." Stiles shrugged. "It takes a lot of concentration to do those wards properly. One line out of place and it could literally explode. Believe me, I've figured this out already and it freaking hurts."

Derek frowned at that, concern written on his face where there was usually a scowl. Stiles shrugged again and grinned at him. It had been one of the most terrifying things he had ever done, but he wasn't going to let that on to Derek. He had been too eager to try spells out and hadn't read all of his mother's warnings and it earned him six weeks of bruises that made his summer pretty miserable.

"Anyway, I need to get back home and hope to god my dad doesn't get pissed about my jeep. At this rate I'm going to need to get a job to cover all the expenses for her."

"I'll pay for the damage." Derek offered, his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Really?" Stiles blinked at him.

"A lot of what's happened to your jeep has been werewolves, so I could stand to pay for the repairs once." The alpha shrugged. "We should go get it priced now."

"Aww, you're worried I'll get attacked on my way home, aren't you?" Stiles batted his lashes.

"Honestly? Yes."

"Wow. Honest Derek Hale. I kind of like this shade on you." Stiles chuckled and moved towards the stairs. "Alright, come on. It's getting late and dad's going to be home by dinner. We should get this done as soon as possible."

Derek nodded and followed Stiles down, but not before kicking his uncle to wake him. Peter groaned and blinked owlishly, jumping up and patting himself down, confused by why he had been on the floor.

"Hey! What did he do to me!" He called after Derek as he was going down the stairs.

"Handed you your ass." Derek called back.

Stiles grinned a bit to himself at the exchange. Peter was shouting at them as they exited the building. A certain kind of smugness settled into Stiles' chest. He had bested Peter and made a fool of the corpse-wolf. Though, he was pretty sure it was going to come back to bite him in the ass later, right now it felt like a complete victory and it felt good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter may be from Papa Stilinski's POV.


	5. Chapter Four: Flood Gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a set of gashes in the back passenger side of Stiles' jeep and this bothers John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have requested that I do chapters from Sheriff Stilinski's POV, so here you go!

When John pulled up in his cruiser he noticed three things immediately: one, all the lights in the house were one; two there were three large gashes in the back passenger side of Stiles' jeep; and three, he could see Derek Hale through the window that looked into the living room. Two of those things didn't really bother John. It was the gashes in the back side of Stiles' jeep that bothered him. It meant that Stiles had been in an accident, most likely the cause of an attack.

He inspected the damage, frowning a bit before going up the stairs to his front door. He opened the door and took off his jacket, hanging it.

"Evening, Stiles. Derek." He called from the front hall. There was a hushed back and forth of whispers before Stiles called back.

"Hey dad! Dinner's almost done. Derek's staying, if, you know, that's okay." Stiles sounded nervous.

John smiled a bit and walked into the kitchen, unbuttoning his uniform shirt. "It's fine. So, which one of you is going to tell me what happened to the jeep?"

Stiles looked to Derek, who rolled his eyes. There was a wordless back and forth between the two using manic hand motions and facial expressions [Stiles] and a weird set of choreographed eyebrow movements [Derek.] John crossed his arms and waited for the two young men to make up their minds about who was going to tell him what had happened.

Stiles sighed dramatically and turned from what he was cooking to his father. "We got attacked by an alpha on our way to go ward Derek's loft. I managed to use my know how to render the alpha out of commission long enough for us to high tail it out of there."

"I plan on paying for the damage to the jeep, sheriff." Derek added, leaning against the counter.

Stile turned back to what he was cooking. "The whole thing was fine, dad. I promise. I didn't even get hurt. Derek Mom-armed me to keep me from busting my beautiful face on the steering wheel."

John snorted a bit and shook his head. He felt relief that his son was actually telling him things now. Stiles kept babbling for several minutes about using his magic and how he totally "pwn'd" the alpha. Derek shook his head and added in that he didn't think that it was exactly safe for Stiles to be going around flaunting his magic.

John had to agree, but Stiles was never a very discreet person. He watched as his son made the other young man help him with dinner. He probably had enough time to run and shower, so he slipped out of the kitchen to do so. When he came back the table was set and dinner was being plated up. Chicken Alfredo, one of the few fatty foods that Stiles thought was healthy enough to cook for him. Though he was pretty sure that he used reduced fat cream to make it.

"So, why did you swing by, Derek?" John asked, spinning delicious sauce covered noodles around the prongs of his fork.

"I was following a really heavy magical aura in the air. I had no idea that it was going to lead me here." Derek shrugged a little, eating.

"I was concentrating really hard and evidently it was making his alpha senses tingle." Stiles shoveled food into his mouth, the white sauce oozing out of the corners of his mouth.

John chuckled a bit at his son. "Are you ever going to be able to eat without getting food all over yourself?"

Stiles turned pink around his ears and wiped the sauce off his face with a napkin. "Wow, way to embarrass your son in front of company, dad."

John laughed and shook his head. "It's a father's duty to embarrass their child in front of their friends."

Stiles blinked and looked to Derek. Derek looked back, raising an eyebrow. John was amused how they didn't quite understand that they were indeed friends. The two young man stared at one another for a long time.

"You don't have to deny it. You might not be traditional friends, but the two of you are friends." John said, taking a sip of his tea.

Stiles shrugged a bit. "I guess that's true."

Derek looked a bit shocked, his eyebrows both raised up high. "Do you think so?"

"Dude, with how much you've saved my ass and how much I've saved yours, I'd say we're sort of bros. Not like you're going to ever replace Scott though." Stiles stuffed another fork full into his mouth.

Derek sat there, musing over this information. John smiled a bit, finishing his meal and getting up to put his plate in the sink. Stiles called from the kitchen about there being jello in the fridge. John pulled out a plate of strawberry jello mold and a tub of reduced fat cool whip. He made himself a bowl of it and went back into the dining room.

Stiles was animatedly talking to Derek about magic. Since he gave the boy the journal, all Stiles has been wanting to talk about was magic. It made John smile. Stiles' excitement reminded him of his wife. How full of life and energy she had been. Giving Stiles the journal had been like resurrecting a bit of his wife.

"So there aren't any kind of incantations?" Derek said, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, there are, but most magic doesn't need it. It needs belief and catalysts, be them drawn or mixtures. Most protection spells are drawn. I even found a few trap spells that are drawn out. And a lot of the stuff used for mixes are super easy to get. I even bought a mortar and pestle so that I can grind my own herb mixtures." Stiles grinned, proud of himself.

"Does Scott know?"

"Well..." Stiles started and made a vague hand gesture. "Not really. He was really busy all summer trying to improve himself so that he could do better in school this year. I did the ward on his house while he was busy doing exercises."

"You should probably tell him that you can do magic." Derek suggested, sipping his tea.

John licked his spoon. "Are you worried that he won't believe you?"

Stiles looked to his dad. "Well, considering he didn't believe me when I told him he was a werewolf, yes. I think he's going to roll his eyes and scoff at the idea. Never mind the fact that he works for a magic user."

"Deaton?" John raised his eyebrows.

"Yes." Stiles nodded, picking up his and Derek's plates. "Do you want Jello?"

Derek nodded. "Sure."

One Stiles was out of the room, John fixed the other young man with a look. "You're going to keep my son safe, aren't you, Hale?"

Derek looked to him. "I try to keep all of my pack as safe as I can, sir."

"That's all I can really ask of you. I worry." John washed down the jello with the rest of his tea.

"Your son is strong." The werewolf replied. "He is smart, cunning, and tenacious. And he's saved me many a time. I will do my best to make sure he's safe."

"Thank you." John smiled.

Stiles came in with two bowls of jello, sitting back down. Derek thanked him quietly and took a bite of the dessert. He had a pleased look on his face. Like he hadn't had a good home cooked meal in a while. He felt sorry for the young man. He understood the feeling of loss.

For about a year after his wife died, he and Stiles lived off of take out and fast food. Which might be why his son was so obsessed with his health. Stiles took up cooking when he was tall enough to use the stove without hurting himself and after about six months of burnt, bland food, he managed to master the skill.

Even if it meant that they ate a lot of veggie burgers and turkey or chicken instead of steaks or pork. He had to grudgingly admit that the turkey lasagna was actually pretty good.

He groaned and got up, taking his bowl to the sink. It was time to settle in with a back log of TV and relax. Derek joined them for a few shows before Stiles offered to drive him home.

"Thank, but I think I'm going to walk. It's a school night and your jeep probably can't take much more abuse tonight." Derek smiled a bit as he went to the front door.

"I could give you a ride." John offered from his recliner.

"Uh, thanks, sir. But I really don't think Stiles wants anyone coming after you for giving me a ride."

"I totally do not." Stiles crossed his arms, looking at his dad. "Your job is dangerous as it is. You don't need homicidal werewolves making it harder."

"I have a gun." John replied.

"Guns do jack shit if you don't have wolfs-bane bullets, dad." Stiles rolled his eyes and got up, stretching.

Derek watched him and John raised an eyebrow at the werewolf. Derek had the good grace to blush and look away. 

"Good night, Stiles. Good night, Sheriff Stilinski."

"You can call me John, son." John smiled at the werewolf.

Derek nodded a bit. "John."

The werewolf slipped out of the house and Stiles went upstairs to work on homework. John stretched out in his recliner, sipping some more tea and watching TV. It felt nice. Normal for once. He felt his eyes growing heavy and just let himself doze off without a worry. His son was safe and the young alpha who ran the pack his son ran with was going to make sure of that. A weight was lifted off of him.

Not that he wasn't going to keep worrying about his son. That's what father's do. They worry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in a week! Aren't you kids lucky? :D
> 
> Thank you for all the comments, kudos, and book marks! They make me so happy. ♥
> 
> EDIT: ;3; I have 100 subscribers! Thank you all!


	6. Chapter Five: Flower for the Thorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murders and Mayhem seem to be a reoccuring theme in Beacon Hills. While Scott and the other werewolves are busy trying to figure out their Alpha problem, Stiles decides to focus on the obviously ritualistic killings plaguing Beacon Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Lydia being Lydia and Stiles still being completely in love with her.

"I'm telling you that there is something going on that isn't connected to the Alphas." Stiles said in exasperation.

"Even if there is some serial killing maniac running around, that isn't our problem right now, Stiles." Scott rolled his eyes, his voice holding just as much exasperation in it as his best friend's did. "Derek threw Isaac out of the loft and he's staying with me, the twins are being completely menacing, and there is that Deucalion guy to be worried about. I'm sorry but I'm not worried about humany stuff right now."

Stiles sighed and shifted his back pack on his shoulder. "Fine. I'll figure it out with Lydia, then. The humans will take care of the humany stuff. If we get killed though, it'll be all your fault."

"You're not going to get killed." Scott scoffed and put his arm around his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure you're too stubborn to die."

"Not everyone's got supernatural healing abilities."

"I know, but you're smarter than the bad guys." Scott patted his arm. "I gotta go get Isaac. We're going to be running some drills on how to get around the twins. See you tomorrow."

Stiles sighed and watched his best friend run off. He just wished someone would take this seriously. He had told his dad he was looking for a pattern, even talked to Deaton about the things. Evidently it was a fallen druid running around committing the non-werewolfy murders. They had just found the Chemistry teacher tied to a tree with the three fold death that morning. It was something that Stiles hadn't shared with Scott.

He was beginning to think that not telling Scott about him having magic was probably the right thing. Scott was too busy trying to make himself a better student and a better werewolf, which, good for him, but that didn't make Stiles feel any less left out. He shifted his bag on his shoulder and went to his locker, getting out his books for homework.

When he closed the locker, he jumped, because Lydia was just casually leaning against the locker next to him.

"You know, you telling me that Aidan was an alpha really messed up my whole needing a distraction from Jackson being gone." She said, looking at her perfect nails, her curls laying over her shoulders in cascades of strawberry blond glory.

Stiles shrugged a bit. "Better you know that he's the enemy than you not know and get your gorgeous head ripped off, right?"

"Mmmm." She considered it. "I suppose. What are we doing about this dark druid?"

"Well, Scott said he's too busy for human affairs right now. I think he's even looped Allison into his plots for torturing the alpha twins." He sighed and shook his head.

"Well, good thing you have a genius on your side, hmm?" Lydia smiled at him. Stiles could just melt at her smile.

"It's always a good thing to have you on my side, Lydia." He smiled back in a bit of a goofy grin.

Lydia patted his face. "Come on, we can do some research."

Stiles followed eagerly, his pockets clinking a bit. Lydia paused and looked to him, her brown eyes narrowing a bit with scrutiny. He blushed a bit, having been carrying a few quick mix powders in his pockets in case he got attacked.

"What's in your pocket?" She asked pursing her perfect lips.

"Uhhh..." Stiles reached into them, pulling out the vials. "Okay, if I tell you something, you have to promise not to tell Scott. Or Allison." Stiles said hurriedly.

Lydia gave him her most predatory smile. "Of course I can keep a secret, Stilinski. But is it a secret worth keeping?"

Stiles stuffed the vials into his pocket. "I'll tell you about it when we get to either your house or mine."

"My mother has her usual socialite friends over. It'll have to be yours." Lydia said, adjusting her purse. "Lead the way."

Stiles nervously did as he was asked. The drive to his house was filled with Lydia chattering about how her Trig teacher was a complete imbecile and how she could do circles around him. Her voice was calming and he enjoyed the rhythm of it. If he thought it was possible, he would fall more in love with her, but he was pretty sure that was impossible at this point.

He opened the door to the jeep for her when they got to his out, jogging up the steps to open the house and let her in. Lydia did her usual 'Totally Judging Everything' look as she walked into the Stilinski house. He got them drinks and lead her up the stairs.

"So, like, at the end of last semester my dad gave me a book from my mom." He said, dumping his bag onto the bed, pulling the book out from a box he had gotten for it. "It's full of all kinds of magic and spells that my mom collected over the years. The vials in my pocket are a few that I've managed to actually memorize."

Lydia raised an eyebrow. "You know magic?"

"Sort of." Stiles nodded a bit.

Lydia crossed her arms and gave him a look that told him that she didn't believe him. "Show me."

"Alright." Stiles looked into the book for an appropriate spell.

He picked the book up with the cloth he kept around it, grabbing a few vials and heading down stairs. Lydia followed quietly. He went out into the back yard and kicked away any debris that might get in the way. He uncoiled the water hose and had it on with the spout off, just in case what he was about to do didn't immediately burn out.

"Well, get on with it." She made a motion.

"Okay." Stiles nodded, feeling a bit nervous. 

He took a deep breath and centered himself. He concentrated and pulled out what he needed, mixing them in his hand before blowing the powder and causing bright green flames ignite in the air.

Lydia looked instantly interested as the flames bled from green to blue and died out in a purple color. She tilted her head and walked over to turn off the water before going over and hooking her arm through his.

"You're going to teach me how to do that." She said, her voice stating that there would be no argument.

"I'm not even sure I can. I mean you were immune to the wolf bite." He walked with her, hugging the book to his chest with his free arm.

"I'm sure that you can teach me anything that doesn't need an incantation, can't you? That little thing you just did was just a mixture of combustible powders. It's simple science." She hummed.

"It's not so simple..." Stiles sighed. "But I'll show you so you can defend yourself. But you can't--"

"Tell Scott or Allison. If they ask why I'm hanging out with you, I'll just tell them I'm tutoring you." She smiled at him, like a shark about to devour a guppy.

"Hey, I am doing great in my classes." Stiles pouted a bit.

"And you can say that it's because I'm helping you so they don't become suspicious."

"We could tell them we're dating." Stiles mused.

Lydia laughed. "Oh, please, Stiles. If anything you'd be like my gay best friend."

"Ah, but we're friends. You even said it yourself." He kissed her cheek and she let him.

"I suppose I could conceded that we're friends." She nodded. "Now show me how to use your magic."

Several hours later, Stiles was driving Lydia home. She had a book full of notes from what he had explained to her and several vials of powder that she had crushed herself in his mortar and pestle. Lydia took to magic much like a swan to water. It seemed that her immunity to the werewolf bite meant that she had plenty of her own magic in her system to ward off an invasive magic.

It meant that if Peter had bitten Stiles all those months ago, he would not have turned into a wolf. He had just about as much, if not more, magic coursing through him than Lydia did. On one hand, it meant that he was going to get to spend hours and hours with the ginger goddess, on another it meant that he was better than her at something academically, though only until she got the hang of it, he was sure.

Lydia got out of the jeep before she leaned back in and leveled a look at him. "Are you sure you don't want your best friend knowing about you having magic?"

"I just think that he'll laugh at me or say I'm doing it for attention." Stiles shrugged. "Derek knows, so at least one of them knows, right?"

"Derek knows?" Lydia raised an eyebrow at that. "Why would you tell Derek but not Scott."

"Derek just sort of happened upon me using it." Stiles said before a thought struck him and he grabbed the book, getting out of his jeep. "I should ward your house."

"Let me do it." Lydia said, leading him to the back yard.

Stiles nodded and followed, laying the book out carefully and handing her the chalk he had been using for warding when he couldn't use cleared earth for it. Lydia studied the runes that he pointed out to her and drew them out. She beamed with pride when the ward melted into the ground, her dark eye looking to him.

"See, I told you I could." She said smugly.

"Lydia Martin, the girl who can do anything." Stiles smiled and showed her the next ward.

Lydia put that one down and was pleased when the same affect was achieved. Stiles scooped the book up, carefully wrapping it up and putting it under his arm.

"So, tomorrow after we do our homework, we will do more magic training." Lydia said, standing smoothly and wiping her skirt off, handing him the chalk.

"Sounds like a plan to me." Stiles nodded.

"Alright." She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Good night, Stiles."

Stiles blushed and touched his cheek, grinning like an idiot. He went back to his jeep and headed home without incident. He parked and blinked when he saw Derek leaning on the porch. The werewolf looked tired and full of shame. Stiles frowned and parked his jeep, getting out and snagging his book, going over to him.

"What's up, Derek?" Stiles asked, unlocking the house. "I heard you had to throw Isaac out, what the hell is up with that, man?"

"Deucalion attacked me while I was at the loft." Derek said somberly. "I have to protect my betas and the only way to do that is to keep them away."

"Okay. What brings you by?"

"I needed to get away from Cora for a while. I don't know why I ended up here." Derek shrugged. "You smell like the Martin girl."

"I was teaching her magic." Stiles admitted, kicking off his shoes. "Are you hungry?"

"I should probably eat something, yes."

"Good, because you're buying. There's a Chinese menu on the fridge." Stiles called as he headed upstairs to put his mom's journal away.

The front door closed and he could hear Derek talking softly on the phone downstairs. He wasn't sure how Deucalion got passed his wards, but it made Stiles a bit miffed and a little worried. He may have to research why the wards at Derek's didn't work when they seemed to be working everywhere else. Maybe it had to be done in cleared earth. He didn't know how he was going to do that at the loft, though.

He went back downstairs, just as Derek was reading off his credit card number. Stiles watched him, frowning a bit.

"I'll have to figure out what happened." He said as Derek hung up the phone.

"I was arguing with Cora and not paying attention to the warning signs." Derek admitted.

"They still shouldn't have been able to hurt you." Stiles crossed his arms.

"Maybe your spells only work on humans." The werewolf shrugged and sat down looking exhausted.

"I'll have to adapt them then." Stiles sat down across from him.

Several minutes of just silence passed between them. Stiles just watched the alpha, worried for his friend. The worry felt weird. As weird as calling Derek his friend did. But he still worried and Derek was still his friend. After a day of trying to convince Scott the immediate danger of the dark druid and then teaching Lydia magic, he himself was pretty tired. He was content to sit in silence with Derek, because that's what Derek needed.

They both needed just a moment where the world around them wasn't trying to kill them. A moment that wasn't filled with a cacophony of anger and danger. Just peace and quiet while waiting for Chinese food to be delivered like they were completely normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the next chapter will maybe have some battling. Be ready!


	7. Chapter Six: Danger Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sky lights up like Forth of July and it looks like it's time for another fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter was the end of any parallels with this season. Time for a roller coaster all my own.

How they had gone from eating Chinese food while watching the latest in terrible sit coms that basic TV had to offer to running through the forest, Derek wasn't exactly sure. He had been completely sure that he was going to be ignored by the Alphas for a few nights. He hadn't counted on whatever else was stalking the shadows of Beacon Hills to rear it's head just as the commercial break was ending.

Stiles was just behind him, fumbling with vials and cussing colorfully under his breath. Derek had to turn and jerk Stiles forward several feet as darkness descended onto the spot the teenager had been standing in. The darkness swirled up into a vaguely human form, bright red orbs glaring at them from within the opaque blackness.

Stiles glared and threw two vials, which exploded in bright green and blue flames. The creature screamed and retreated back into the darkness more, hissing from within itself.

"What the hell is that?" Derek growled a little.

"Something that the Darach summoned, probably." Stiles fumbled with his phone, tossing it to Derek. "Call the pack."

"What the hell is a darach?" Derek caught the phone, bringing Scott's number up on speed dial.

"It's a dark druid. Deaton said that was what was probably behind all the non-wolfy deaths going on." Stiles said, making a circle around them, muttering under his breath to form a glowy circle of protection.

"Hello? Stiles, it really isn't--" Scott started.

"Not Stiles." Derek growled, keeping his eyes on the creature in the woods.

"Derek? Why do you have Stiles' phone? Is Stiles okay?" There was a sudden hint of urgency in the teen werewolf's voice.

"What's going on?" Isaac asked, slightly muffled in the background of the call.

"Look, we need you and the rest of the pack to come back us up. Stiles and I are in a bit of trouble." Derek made sure to add a bit of urgency to his own voice.

"We're on our way." Scott hung up without even finding out where they were.

"Idiot." Derek muttered.

"Phone me." Stiles held his hand out, taking the phone and quickly dialing another number. "Hey, Lydia, could you run by my place and grab my book, maybe bring a few extra vials?"

"What have you gotten yourself into now?" Lydia sounded amused.

"Trouble with a capital t?" Stiles grinned a bit. "You're the absolute best. We're about half a mile into the woods behind my house. I don't suggest you wear any heels."

"Trainers it is. When you say we, who is with you?" Derek could hear her just sort of lazily getting herself ready.

"Derek." Stiles replied with a shrug. "No hurry or anything, just life or death."

"I'm coming. Don't die, Stilinski." She hung up.

"I have a bad feeling about the odds of our survival." Derek muttered.

"Lydia will get here faster than Scott will." Stiles shrugged.

"Don't trust your best friend to save us?" The alpha looked to the teenager.

"Oh, no. I do." The teen replied, mixing things in an empty vial, keeping an eye on the creature as it moved through the shadows between the trees. "I just know he's going to round up anyone he can, including Allison before he makes his way here. Lydia wants to learn how to use magic, so she has just a bit more interest in me not getting horribly maimed at the moment."

"Let's just hope you can trust her." Derek grunted, crouching. "How long will this circle keep that thing out?"

"As long as neither of us cross it or I stay conscious, we should be fine."

"Should be?"

"Magic isn't an exact science." Stiles shrugged.

The creature swirled and formed back into a vaguely human form. It's mouth opened and it wailed at them, it's attack reverberating off of the circle. Derek snarled and put his hands over his ears, his eyes flashing red. It went around the circle, trying to break the protection. The wailing was driving Derek mad. He wanted to attack the creature and rip into it with his teeth.

Stiles put a hand on his shoulder just as he seemed like he was about to vault through the protection barrier. He handed him something to stuff into his ears and Derek took them thankfully. It looked like simple moss, though it was slightly damp.

"It'll leave you able to hear but will cancel out the tones of the shriek." Stiles said loudly, pointing at his own ears.

"Thanks." Derek said in a gruff growl back. The moss seemed to work almost instantly, muting out the grating sound of the creature.

"It's casting a spell at us." Stiles said loudly. "If you can't hear it, it can't hurt you. That's why you were getting ready to attack it. That's what it wanted."

"You know what that thing is?"

"Not a clue."

There was a crash in the underbrush as several people came running in their general direction. Lydia was leading the way with a huge beach bag sort of purse on her arm and a bright flash light in hand. The creature roared and flitted back away from the light. Behind Lydia was Scott, Boyd, Isaac and Allison. Isaac was avoiding eye contact with Derek, which made Derek's stomach sink with guilt. He didn't want to think about how the kid felt after he had to throw him out for his own protection.

Lydia tossed the bag to Stiles and Derek caught it so that it wouldn't crash to the ground and break any vials in it that the teenage needed. Stiles pulled the book out quickly, thumbing through the pages before grabbing two vials out.

"Here, hold this." He pushed the book to Derek. "Lydia, do a circle."

Lydia nodded and started doing whatever it was that Stiles did earlier around her, Allison and the betas. "You owe me, Stiles!"

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered mixing things.

"What is going on? I thought you two were in danger? I don't see anything." Scott frowned, crossing his arms.

"I guess that explains why you didn't smell this thing sneaking on us." Stiles muttered under his breath.

"I don't have some kind of supernatural radar." Derek retorted, keeping the book open.

The creature popped up behind the other circle, wailing at them, causing those within to fall to their knees, putting their hands to their ears.

"What is that thing?!" Allison said, flinching as she tried to look at it.

"My guess is it's some kind of banshee like thing." Stiles replied with a hum.

Lydia was watching Stiles carefully, taking note as to what he was doing before copying his process. Derek was impressed by how quickly she had a mixture that smelled almost the same as whatever Stiles was mixing up. He looked back to Stiles and frowned a bit at the change in his demeanor.

"I'm going to need you to distract it." He said softly, taking the book and putting it back in the bag, shaking the vial in his hand. "I'm going to break the circle and you need to go to the others and distract it. It'll go after you first, I think."

"Why?" Derek asked, turning himself so he could easily run to the others.

"It'll go after what it thinks is the bigger threat." Stiles said, glancing to him. "And I'm going to kill it."

"How do you--Stiles!" Derek turned just as Stiles took off in the other direction.

The creature howled as the circle broke. Derek ran towards the others, hoping that Stiles was right about it going after him and not the teenager. It wasn't until he was almost to the other circle that he figured out that it wasn't coming after him.

He turned just as a large flash lit up the night sky. There was a terrible scream and everyone was running in the direction of the flash. Derek's heart was pounding in his ears. He had just promised the sheriff the other night he was going to try and keep his son alive and here it was not even a week later and Stiles has gone and gotten himself killed, if not horribly maimed.

The light was intense in the clearing as werewolves and humans alike burst through the underbrush. Derek threw an arm up to shield his eyes, growling in frustration. The light began to dim and Stiles was standing in the clearing, his hand through the ethereal form of the monster. The usually animated and goofy boy had a scowl of severity usually seen on someone of many more wizened years than that of a sixteen-year-old. The creature made a pathetic sound as it began to melt away, the light intensifying again for a moment before leaving the clearing in near pitch blackness.

The ambient light began to bring the clearing back into focus. Derek moved forward before anyone else had regained their senses. Stiles let his arm drop, his hand dripping with blood with little shards of glass poking out of his skin. He had a grim look to him, his body shaking slightly.

The alpha grabbed his hand, lifting it up to look at it. He carefully pulled shards of glass from his skin. It took several minutes before Stiles even started to register that Derek was there.

"Ow!" Stiles hissed and tried to jerk his hand back.

"Stop complaining." Derek growled, plucking another piece of glass out of the boy's hand.

Lydia came over with the big bag, pulling out a roll of bandages. "I figured we would need first aide." She said, holding the roll out to Derek.

Derek took it once all the glass was out of Stiles' skin. The others sheepishly move over, muttering in confusion.

"What the hell just happened?" Scott asked, checking Derek's handy work of Stiles' hand.

"I killed whatever that thing was." Stiles shrugged, rubbing his wrist. "Thanks, Derek."

"But what just happened? What did you do?" Scott repeated, frowning. "What was that light? What did Lydia do back in the forest with that stuff?"

"Magic, my dear, McCall." Lydia said, checking her nail polish for chipping.

"Magic? You can do Magic?" Allison looked to Lydia.

"I'm surprised as you are. Stiles just started teaching me today." She smiled at her best friend, her dimples in their full glory.

"Stiles? You have magic?" Scott looked to him, giving him a betrayed look. Derek sort of snorted at that, crossing his arms a bit.

"Yes. I tried to tell you months ago." Stiles said with a shrug. "Granted, you and Allison just had that whole big break up and everything and you were pretty messed up in the head."

"You did?" Scott blinked and looked up, trying to recall exactly when they had this conversation.

"Yes." Stiles replied with a groan. "I swear there is air between your ears."

"Wait, but you told Lydia you had magic and not me?" Scott's pout returned.

"Lydia sort of pulled it out of me."

"Fair is fair." Lydia said in a sing-songy voice. "Besides, Derek knew before I did."

Scott frowned more and looked to Derek. Derek shrugged a bit, his hands going into his pockets. The teenager narrowed his eyes at the alpha.

"Why did you tell him and not me?"

"Stiles didn't tell me. I found him using magic." Derek shrugged again. "Are you okay, Stiles?"

"I should be. I don't think I actually killed anything. I think it was some kind of construct." Stiles opened and closed his hand, making sure it was still usable. "And I figured since you didn't want to hear me back in May and you've been blowing me off about the darach, that you probably wouldn't believe me about magic, Scott."

"I would have believed you!" Scott pouted a bit.

"That, aside, you need to tell your pack about you being attacked by the alpha pack." Stiles pointed at Derek.

"Is that why you made me leave?" Isaac said quietly.

Derek sighed, running his hands through his hair. Alpha packs, darachs, and Stilinski's with magic. He wasn't sure that he was going to survive the night with all the revelations going around. With a slightly defeated slump to his shoulders, he ushers the teenagers, wolves and humans alike, back to Stiles' house before he was willing to start explaining anything. Stiles went about cleaning up his hand while Derek explained to his pack about Deucalion.

Lydia sat perched on the arm of a couch asking appropriate questions while Allison looked like she felt a bit uncomfortable about getting involved with what was going on. Stiles came back into the living room with his hand freshly wrapped, plucking the moss from his ears.

Derek blinked, remembering his own moss and pulling it out. "Anyway, that's just about everything we know right now."

"What are we going to do about the alphas?" Boyd asked, crossing his arms.

"Isn't there a way for us to deal with them without getting people killed?" Scott added.

"I'm not sure." Derek answered honestly. "Deucalion wants me to kill my pack and join his. I'm not sure we can get away with not killing someone while having to deal with them and this darach thing, too."

"I still say that the alphas are behind the killings." Isaac crossed his arms.

"Not likely, but thanks for your input." Stiles said, rolling his eyes. "Look, we just have to admit that there are two problems running a muck here in Beacon Hills."

"And exactly what problems are those?" Sheriff Stilinski asked, hanging his hat up.

Every wolf in the room jumped and looked to the older man. Even Derek was embarrassed to admit that he hadn't heard John pull up or even come into the house. Stiles cussed under his breath and gave his father a sheepish look.

"Alright, one at a time explain to me why my living room is full of underage kids out past curfew." The Sheriff crossed his arms, settling his blue eyes on Stiles first. "Son?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter bites the dust! The creature in this is some kind of gollem or something similar. The next chapter will probably be from Stiles' POV if not from John's. 
> 
> Now excuse me while I continue to wallow in despair over Motel California. [Because OMG!]


	8. Chapter Seven: Grasping Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between explaining things to his father, the throbbing pain in his hand, and the fact that he still had a weird feeling after he destroyed the construct, Stiles was already feeling weary from a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had every intention of writing this yesterday, and then Futurama happened instead. >>; So here we go! :D

"Son?" Stiles' dad asked again, his eyebrow raised at him.

Stiles' mind was racing, trying to grasp at threads of thought to start the explanation. His first instinct was to lie. That instinct was quickly squashed due to his father's recently revealed knowledge of the supernatural. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

"There are two really bad things happening in Beacon Hills. We've got an Alpha Pack and a Darach." Stiles said in a calm, slow tone.

His dad raised an eyebrow and nodded a bit. "Alright. Should I be worried about you? All of you?" He looked at all the young people in his living room.

"Yes and no." Stiles admitted and shrugged. "I have no doubt that this is going to be dangerous."

"We were attacked tonight by the Darach." Derek added, which, wow, unhelpful.

Stiles rubbed his hand. "I think it was just a wind construct sent to attack us. I managed to destroy it."

"Is that why your hand is bandaged?" His father walked over, gently taking it and checking it over. "Did you go to Malissa to get this patched up?"

"No, I cleaned it up myself." Stiles admitted.

His father nodded a bit and went into the kitchen, coming back with a few fingers full of whiskey, shooing Isaac out of his chair. Stiles fidgeted as his father got comfortable and then set his eyes on all of them.

"Alright, tell me what you know about these Alpha's first."

The werewolves take over at this point, all starting to talk at once. Derek cast a look around the room and quieted them so that he could explain. Stiles didn't really pay attention. His hand was throbbing something terrible and he was still freaking out a little about the whole incident in the forest.

When he had run off from Derek, he knew the shrieking thing was going to come after him instead of Derek. He had prepared the spell and ran as fast and as hard as he could, thanking his Lacrosse training for keeping him fit. He made it past the trees and turned just as the construct came upon him and he was ready to throw the vial.

Only it was practically on top of him and he couldn't throw the vial. He had to think fast, his hand slamming into the creature's chest. The vial shattered in his hand and against the creature and the spell exploded with much more energy than he had actually intended to put into the spell.

The creature screeched in such a horrible way and the world warbled and flashed. Stiles couldn't breath, all the air in his lungs felt like they were burning as the creature writhed and began to dissipate around his hand. Stiles took great, deep lung fulls of air when whatever counter spell the creature had cast began to wear off.

He hadn't heard the crashing in the underbrush. He hadn't seen Derek move to help him. His eyes were still adjusting to the after spell effects and he was getting himself back under control. In fact, he still didn't feel under control.

"And Stiles is teaching me magic." Lydia's voice cut through the rushing sound in Stiles' head.

He looked up and blinked, looking around. Everyone was looking at him, expectantly. Stiles' face flushed and he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Uh, yeah. Lydia's a total natural." He said, his voice sort of flat.

Derek and his dad's faces creased with concern. He didn't want them to be concerned. He wanted to sit in a dark room and ignore the throbbing in his head. He wanted to scream into a pillow, to let all this energy out.

"Okay, so what do we know about the Darach?" His dad asked, eying.

"Nothing. Other than what it is and the fact that it is what's causing all these weird deaths." Stiles replied, rubbing his hand again.

"Is there anything about them in your mom's journal?" Lydia prompted.

"No. Mom was a witch, not a druid. We're going to have to talk to Deaton about druids." Stiles shrugs a bit.

"Deaton." Stiles' dad said, nodding a bit and stood up. "Well, I think I'm going to have a conversation with Deaton."

"You've been drinking, you're not driving." Stiles crossed his arms. "You're the Sheriff, dad. It's a bad example for the Sheriff to drive under the influence."

His dad chuckled and sat back down. "Alright. Who else can we ask for help?"

"My dad?" Allison prompted a bit. "But he really doesn't want to have anything to do with any of this. We sort of promised each other to stay out of werewolf business."

"Ah, but this isn't werewolf business." Stiles grinned a bit. "And since the werewolves are busy with werewolfy business, we can totally work on the Darach."

Scott was grumbling and crossing his arm. "We can help with Darach, too."

"That was not your position of the issues earlier." Stiles shrugged.

"That was before it was a real thing." Scott grumbled more.

"I would feel better if you were all working together." Stiles' dad said, looking around at all the young people. "I can try to talk to Deaton and Allison's dad, see about enlisting their help."

There was a murmur of agreement throughout the group. Stiles wasn't paying attention again. He was pinching the bridge of his nose. There were spots in his vision. His limbs were full of energy and numb. There was a building pressure in him. An ebb and flow of energy that felt like it was going to overwhelm him.

He was concentrating on breathing, on getting himself controlled. For the second time Derek seemed to appear in Stiles' personal space out of nowhere. His hand was clasped lightly against the back of Stiles' neck, his thumb rubbing against the side of his neck soothingly. Stiles concentrated on that, bringing himself back into the present.

"You should probably sleep." Derek said, frowning a bit, his brow wrinkled with concern. "You keep zoning out."

"I'm exhausted. That spell had way too much energy in it." Stiles admitted.

"You need to train your restraint on your energy." Derek shook his head.

They were walking. When did they start walking? Derek was carefully leading him out of the living room and up the stairs. Stiles could still hear murmuring downstairs, but his head was too full of buzzing.

Derek continued to rub his thumb over the side of his neck, talking in a soft, soothing tone. "You're over extending yourself. With the training you did with Lydia today and then whatever that spell you did to get rid of that thing probably ate whatever energy you had left."

"Mmm" Stiles nodded a bit. The feel of Derek's hand on the back of his neck was comforting.

Derek helped him get his shoes off and get out of most of his clothes. Stiles automatically started pulling on PJs, yawning and shuffling a bit. With Derek's help, he made it into the bed.

"Thank you for saving us." Derek said softly from the door. "It shouldn't be your job to save people, but thank you."

Stiles yawned and stretched a bit. "Don't even worry about it, man. I am totally up for saving people. Really. The faster we get all this stuff out of Beacon Hills, the faster I get to be a lazy teen."

Derek made a noise and turned the light off. The door clicked closed and Stiles' felt the buzzing in his mind start to subside. He rolled over and was out like a light as soon as his face was settled on the pillow. He was going to sleep hard and long thanks to his day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be Papa Stilinski doing Papa Stilinski things, like dragging Deaton and Chris into helping him help the kids :D


	9. Chapter Eight: Recruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Stilinski can be very persuasive when he wants to be. Chris and Alan are about to find this out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for Papa Chapters!

The living room had gone silent as everyone watched Derek usher Stiles up the stairs. John sat there, sipping his whiskey, an eyebrow raised. He felt a bit of amusement as he looked at the different expressions on the faces of the young people. Isaac seemed confused. Boyd bored. Lydia was busy checking her nails. Allison looked uncomfortable. Cora, he believed that was her name, was curiously watching after Derek. And Scott was glaring.

John finished his drink and cleared his throat, standing up. "Okay, kids, it's past curfew and I am a tired old man. So you all need to get on home."

Everyone shuffled out, Scott sticking behind, waiting for Derek to follow the others out. Derek nodded at John before he left. Scott took a deep breath through his nose and looked to John.

"Do you trust Derek?" He asked, straight forward.

"I do." John nodded. "He seems to have the best interest in you kids in mind."

"Stiles didn't tell me he had magic." Scott admitted, frowning.

"That is his own choice, son." John put his hand on his shoulder. "You should get home. Your mother worries about you and I think Isaac is waiting for you."

Scott nodded a bit and sighed, heading to the door. "So you know about what we are?" He asked, paused.

"Yep." John said, shrugging a bit. "But that's something to talk about another time. Go home, Scott. Sleep. You need it."

Scott nodded again and left without another word. John set about locking up the house and turning off lights. He yawned and stretched, heading to bed. In the morning he checked on Stiles, turned off the boy's alarm and left a note telling him to get as much rest as he needed and that they would talk when he got home.

John dressed in jeans and a comfortable t-shirt, deciding to drive his much neglected bike instead of his cruiser. Stiles constantly begged him to get rid of the bike, but John liked it too much. He was always careful in riding it, wearing a leather jacket, boots, and a helmet.

He decided that he was going to go talk to Deaton first. Mainly because he wasn't sure that Chris wouldn't just put a gun in his face and tell him to leave. Not that he would blame the man. He was just doing what John was trying to do. To protect his child.

He parked his bike and took off his helmet, looking to the vet clinic before he got up and went inside. Deaton came from the back, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Sheriff." He nodded his greeting.

"Doctor." John replied. "I'm here to talk to you about a few things."

"Oh?" Deaton's eyebrows raised more, opening the gate for him. "What can I help you with."

John smiled, almost enigmatically. "Well, Alan, I thought we'd start with Scott and the other werewolves and move on to my son and his magic."

That caught Alan by surprise. He ushered John into the back, going to flip the closed sign before following him into his office. The two men looked at one another for a long moment, sizing one another up.

"So... How long have you known about werewolves?" Alan sat down.

John took the other chair, setting his helmet down. "Since my wife told me about everything before she died."

A look of shock crossed the doctor's face. "Your wife knew?"

"Yes. She was a witch, evidently." John shrugged a bit, smiling at the other man. "I had a hard time believing it but I've come around. I recently gave Stiles his mother's journal and he's been learning magic. What can you tell me about this Alpha Pack?"

Alan leaned forward, putting his hands in a steeple in front of his face. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. John waited patiently, watching the other man. Resignation came to Alan and he took a deep breath and leaning back.

"Alright. I can tell you what I know. Deucalion is the leader. A blind Alpha who is seeking out other alphas to join his pack. There is Kali, Eniis, Ethan, and Aidan, all of which have their own special abilities. To join this pack, an alpha must kill all of their betas. Deucalion is trying to get Derek to do this, however, I don't think that is exactly what he is after. I think he's actually after Scott."

John raised an eyebrow at that. "Why Scott?"

"I have a feeling that Scott is going to become an alpha of his own character. He is special." Deaton replied.

John nodded a bit. "Okay. So how do I get you to help me with this?"

"Help you how? I'm merely a veterinarian."

"Now, Alan, we both know that's not true." John smiled a bit. "If nothing else, I would like you to help Stiles with his training."

"Druid magic and Wican are interchangeable." Alan nodded a bit. "I will see what I can do. What kind of magic is he doing?"

"It looks mostly like he's mixing powders. I'm not exactly sure how it all works. I know that he's been showing Lydia how to do it."

"Alright, well I can see what I can do. I should make you up some wolfs-bane bullets if you're planning on going after these Alphas. Though, I don't suggest it."

"I'm going to talk to Chris Argent about that... Oh, before I go, what can you tell me about a darach?"

Alan's face darkened a bit. He leaned back in his seat more. "They are dark druids. People who have stepped off the path and are pursuing the darkness. I can say with some certainty that your bizarre killings are the work of one."

"Well, my son and Derek were attacked last night." John said, getting up and picking up his helmet. "By some kind of construct. That's what Stiles said, anyway."

Alan's eyebrows raised a bit more, a frown on his face. "That is interesting. I will definitely see what I can find out about this construct."

"Thanks. I need to go see about talking to Chris Argent. I think I'm going to need as much help as I can get." John shook hands with Alan.

"We all are going to need help." Alan nodded. "Good luck, Sheriff."

"John. You can call me John."

"Well, good luck, John."

John left the vet's office and stopped for a quick lunch before he headed to the building that Chris was living in. He wouldn't tell Stiles about his double bacon cheese burger and curly fries. He figured he deserved a bit of artery clogging goodness after the whole mess he and his son were getting into.

The drive to the high rise that Chris was living in was uneventful. John looked up at the building, letting out a low whistle. He wondered what kind of money a person had to make to live in such a building. He knew his measly earnings as sheriff probably wasn't even enough for one of the lower, less glamorous apartments in the building.

He squared his shoulders and went inside. He took the time to go over what he was going to say in his head on the elevator ride up. The elevator pinged and opened and Chris Argent was standing in the door of it, eyebrows raised in inquiry.

"Sheriff." Chris said, narrowing his blue grey eyes at him. "What brings you this way?"

"I was hoping to sit down and talk to you about some things, Mr. Argent." John smiled at the other man, going for an air of camaraderie.

Chris seemed to hesitate a moment before motioning John off of the elevator. John followed the other man, his hands in his pockets, eyes casting curiously around the hallway. Chris lead him through into his office, closing the door with a soft click.

"What can I help you with, Sheriff." Chris said, sitting behind his desk.

"Now, I know you said you weren't hunting anymore--" John put his hand up to stop Chris from interrupting him, "however I think it's time you and I had a conversation. One about your hunting, werewolves, the things that happened last spring, and this whole problem we're having with Darachs and Alpha Packs here in Beacon Hills."

Chris stared at John for a long moment. "How long have you known about all this stuff?"

"Since before your family left Beacon Hills and came back." John replied with a shrug, sitting down in a chair across from Chris. "And by that I mean when your little sister set fire to the Hale house."

Genuine shock covered the hunter's face. "That's quite a while. You manage to pull off the dumb cop act really well."

"When you're trying to protect your child from a world you're not ready for them to know about, you put up a mask." John nodded. "Of course, you know all about that with Allison, don't you?"

"I had hoped to never include Allison in that world. My sister pushed the whole thing, my wife kept the momentum going, and my father..." Chris shook his head. "But what could you possibly be protecting Stiles from? He seems to have figured out hunters and werewolves all on his own."

"My kid is too smart for his own good." John chuckled a bit. "I was protecting him from his mother's legacy. His mother was a witch, or Wiccan, or whatever. I was never too sure of what exactly she was. I finally gave him her journals and he's been practicing all sorts of magic since he got his hands on them. I wasn't ready for that, but with how things are right now, it would have been negligent for me to withhold his birthright."

Chris had a look of sympathy on his face. The two of them were in similar situations with their children. It was too late to pull them back from the world they were living in now, but both fathers desperately wished there was more they could do.

"I don't think I can help you, Sheriff."

"We both know that isn't true." John leaned forward, concentrating on the other man. "There is no way we can keep out of this, Chris. I've already got Alan Deaton on board to help me. Even if it's just you supplying me with something to defend myself against these alphas, that would help miles."

Chris rubbed his face and leaned back in his seat. "I promised Allison that we wouldn't be doing this anymore."

"She didn't take that promise to heart then. She was in my living room last night after Stiles and Derek were attacked by the Darach." John frowned at the other man. "If there is a way we can help our children, we need to do it."

Chris looked like he wanted to argue. Like he wanted to throw John out of his apartment and ignore the problem. He also looked like he wanted to do whatever he could to help his daughter. Allison was his kryptonite, like Stiles was John's [And Scott on a slightly lesser scale.]

Chris got up from his seat and went over to his bookshelf, pulling out several books and then opening a safe. He pulled out a wooden box and set it on the desk in front of John, along with a well worn old leather book.

"These are wolfs-bane bullets. I have more, but these have the highest concentration in them. If you run across an alpha, shoot them with this and it may very well kill the bastards." Chris said, showing him the bullets, a gun in the box with them. "This is a grimoire. If your son is going to be using magic, I think he might want to look into this. I have a few more magic books, but they're really sort of useless unless he speaks French or Latin."

"Thank you, Chris." John accepted both things. "Does this mean I have your help for this?"

"These kids shouldn't have to do this alone. I may hate helping, but if Allison feels the need to, I'm going to have to back her up. I don't want to see anyone die." Chris sat back down. "Except maybe the alphas. Deucalion killed one of my uncles. I feel sort of a righteous need to kill the bastard."

"I'm not going to stop that." John admitted, chuckling at the shock on the other man's face. "These people are killing citizens in my city. They are putting people I care about in danger. I am the sheriff, but I'm also a father. The Darach directly attacked my son and his friends. I say that the faster these assholes are taken out, the better."

"Agreed." Chris nodded and stood.

They shook hands and John left, whistling to himself as he got onto the elevator. A blind man joined him and the air in the elevator seemed to become intense and heavy.

"Could you hit the button for the penthouse?" He asked with a serene smile.

John obliged, watching the blind man from the corner of his eye.

"You must be the Sheriff." The man smiled a bit. "That son of yours is quite the trouble maker."

"I'd ask how you know, but I'm assuming you're one of the troublemakers I've heard about." John said nonchalantly.

"Indeed." The man chuckled darkly. "I am Deucalion."

"Gesundheit." John replied sarcastically.

"I see where your son gets his wit." Deucalion said, turning a bit to face John. "Surely you don't think an out of shape elected official is much of a challenge."

"Surely you're not stupid enough to attack the sheriff in a building that's just busting with surveillance." John shrugged a bit, rocking on his heals waiting for the elevator to open. "Besides, you're assuming I'm out of shape and incapable of defending myself without a gun. You would be sorely mistaken.

"I know you're not capable of whatever magic your son has."

"True, true." John admitted and dropped down as Deucalion swung his cane, catching it. "I am however a third degree black belt."

Deucalion's lip curled in irritation just as the door to the elevator dinged open. John grinned a bit and let go of the cane, stepping out of the elevator as more people flooded into it.

"Have a nice day, Mr. Deucalion." John chimed, heading to his bike.

He had a bit of a pep in his step when he got home. He was getting a bit foxy in his old age. Though, he was sure the taunting of the alpha was going to come back and bite him in the ass later, he kind of felt he had scored a few points.

The day had been all together productive. He had gotten both his intended targets to cooperate and as he was walking up the steps to his house he could smell food cooking. Stiles was up in the kitchen, still in his PJs, cooking up something, probably for his lunch.

"Hey, dad." Stiles yawned and portioned out the food for two.

John licked his lips and took a plate, hugging his son before sitting down. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah. Thanks for letting me sleep in." Stiles said sleepily and sat down with his food.

John enjoyed a quiet meal with his son. He allowed himself to reminisce a bit, thinking about how much Stiles looked like his mother. The day had been a good one and he wasn't ready for anything to change yet. He enjoyed his meal and relaxed. There was an on coming storm, but for the minute they could breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Deucalion was probably just going to rap John for being a snarky butt. He probably didn't think that John was actually capable of defense.
> 
> As far as John being a black belt. I'm taking this from the actor's actual career. There may be a chapter later where John teaches Stiles some basic self defense. :3


	10. Glamoured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek finds himself dropping Jennifer Blake at the high school. He doesn't know why he's doing this but he is. Then Stiles climbs into his car and everything goes from hazed to sharp focus.
> 
> In which Derek's clearly charmed and Stiles says so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE!

Derek felt a sort of giddiness as he watched Jennifer wave at him from the steps of the school as she went inside. It had been two weeks since the incident in the woods. He could barely recall the conversations of that night. He knew that John was busy rounding up some sort of old men's club of people to figure things out that were above the heads of the teenagers. Stiles was busy teaching Lydia. Scott was training with Isaac.

He had forgotten all about his problems. Or so it sort of felt like he had.

Once Jennifer was out of his eye line, his head started to hurt a bit and he felt a little dizzy. He couldn't put his finger on it.

Maybe it was blood loss. He had been in a bit of a major fight, but he couldn't remember the exact events of the fight. All he knew was that he felt happy whenever Jennifer was around.

He rubbed his face and leaned back in his seat. The door opened and Stiles slid into the seat next to him, his brown eyes serious.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"What do you mean?" Derek blinked at the young man.

"You know very well what I mean! You show up at my house all bloody and almost dead and I spend hours fixing you up and then you vanish? Not cool."

"What?" Derek frowned at Stiles.

"You got your ass handed to you by the alpha patrol. You were pretty bad off, but I didn't think it was amnesia bad." Stiles frowned and reached over, putting the inside of his wrist to Derek's forehead. "You're still clammy and pale."

Derek pulled back away from the teenager's touch, swatting his hand. "I'm fine. Don't you have class?"

"I'm not going to class. You're going to drive me to my house and I'm going to figure out what's wrong with you." Stiles crossed his arms.

"Where's your jeep?" Derek blinked at him, his brain was sluggish.

"In the shop, remember? Claw marks? They're giving me a run around about the paint color." Stiles turned around to put his back pack in the back seat. "Come on. I'm worried about you and think you need to be checked out."

"Shouldn't Deaton do that?" Derek didn't feel like arguing and put the car into reverse.

"Dad's got Deaton doing... _things_." Stiles said vaguely, waving a hand.

Derek raised an eyebrow and shook his head. He didn't know why he was obeying the teenager so readily. He drove to Stiles' house in a companionable silence, his head still feeling hazy. Stiles had to remind him where to turn after he had passed his street. He just wanted to go back to his loft and sleep. He could feel annoyance bubbling up in him from being bossed around by the teen.

Stiles got out of the car went around to open the door on Derek's side. Derek growled in annoyance grabbed the teen's bag and got out of the car.

"I'm not a child." He grumbled and followed the teen.

"I know that." Stiles said, opening the house and letting the alpha go inside. "I'm still allowed to be worried about you. Sit down on the couch."

Derek sort of just flung himself at the couch, slouching into the cushions. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. It wasn't until Stiles was waving his hand in front of his face.

"I brought you some hot soup and some juice." Stiles said, frowning. "You should eat while I set up to see what is wrong with you."

Derek blinked at him and sat up. He sedately ate the soup for a few minutes before his body registered it was being fed and he scarfed the rest. Stiles had left a tray of food on the coffee table when he left the room. Derek looked around and finished eating the food on the table.

It felt like he hadn't eaten in days and he got up from the couch to go raid the fridge for a bit more food. He had just finished a sandwich when Stiles came back down stairs.

"You weren't hungry were you?" Stiles said with a bit of a smile.

"Starving." Derek replied. "What happened?"

"I haven't figured that out yet." Stiles said, sitting down with his mother's book in his lap. "The last time I saw you, you were bloodied and in pain. I patched you up, cleaned you up, and you stumbled off into the night."

"You didn't force me to stay?"

"You kept going on and on about needing to check on something and pushed me away." Stiles shrugged, mixing things in a vial. "I'm going to need a few drops of blood."

Derek narrowed his eyes at him and pricked his own finger dripping into the proffered vial. Stiles mixed the contents with a bit of water. The teenager swirled vial around to mix it, muttering softly under his breath in what sounded almost like Latin.

The cadence of the muttering was sort of pleasant to listen to. Derek felt his eyes start to grow heavy and he rubbed the heel of his palm into his eye.

Stiles added another thing to the vial and it lit up bright red and the vial shook angrily. "Oh shit."

Stiles got up and quickly darted to the kitchen to throw the vial into the sink before it exploded. Derek got up and followed him, raising an eyebrow at the boy's reaction.

"What was that about?" he asked, watching Stiles.

"Someone has put a really strong spell on you." Stiles replied, washing the bubbling red goo down the sink. "I should probably try breaking that."

"You can do that?"

"If I can't, I'm sure that Deaton can."

Derek frowned a bit. When did someone put a spell on him. Why didn't he sense it? He followed the young man back into the living room. He sat down and watched Stiles page through the book.

Stiles found what he was looking for and set about preparing the spell. He went and got his mortar and pestle and several strong smelling herbs. Derek watched him work, fighting against the want to sleep.

Stiles reached over and took Derek's hand and pricked his finger again. Three drops of blood were added to the bowl that Stiles was preparing the spell in. Then Stiles pricked his own finger and added three drops of his own blood into the mix.

Derek frowned a bit and grabbed Stile's hand to put pressure on his finger to stop the blood. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Breaking the spell on you?" Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. "Blood counteracts blood and whoever did this definitely used a blood spell to do it."

"How would someone get hold of my blood?"

"Dude, Derek. You were covered in blood, remember?"

Derek didn't remember. He didn't like that he didn't remember. Something was wrong.

Stiles uncorked a bottle and the smell of what was in it made Derek's nose wrinkle. He leaned back away from the smell of the bottle.

Stiles ignored him, concentrating on his work. He poured a little of the bottle's contents into the bowl. It was a thick, almost tar like liquid that displaced the lighter elements in the bowl. He added water to the bowl and used the pestle to mix the contents.

Derek watched in fascination as the gold of magic seemed to flood into Stiles' eyes as worked. The air in the living room was suddenly electrified and Derek's tongue was thick with how much energy seemed to be coursing around them. He swallowed and watched as energy was poured into the bowl from the boy.

Sparks flew off of the bowl and Stiles put his hand over it. He exhaled and drew his hand up and the mixture in the bowl followed the pull of his hand. The gold in Stiles' eyes was taking over more of his iris than Derek had seen before. A portion of the spell separated away from the rest of it and the bowl and followed Stiles' hand, floating below the curve of his palm.

Derek watched as Stiles turned his hand over and the black goo floated above his hand. Green started to flood into the gold in the young mans eyes and his fingers curled toward orb floating above his hand. The orb began to pulse and Derek felt his heart start beating faster.

A sort of dread started to fill Derek. He wanted to reach out and stop Stiles from whatever he was doing. He wanted to throw the bowl against the wall and roar and make the teenager stop. But he didn't. He stared as the orb above Stiles' hand started to deform and change. For a brief moment it was the shape of a disfigured skull, then it smoothed out into a perfectly round ball again.

Stiles lifted his other hand to put over the orb. His hair was standing on end and his eye were actually glowing a bright greenish gold. He started to move his hands closer together and Derek felt a dizziness slam into him.

The orb began to shrink, growing smaller and smaller as Stiles' hands got closer and closer. Derek growled, shifting a bit and reaching out to grab hold of Stiles' hands. Stiles looked up at him and their eyes locked. Derek's clawed hand stopped just short of grabbing hold of Stiles' wrists.

"Do you trust me?" Stiles asked, his voice having some kind of power to it.

"Yes." Derek replied and pulled his hands back, letting his shift recede. "I trust you."

"Good, because this might hurt." Stiles replied and slammed both of his hands together where the orb was between them.

Derek didn't remember blacking out. All he knew was he opened his eyes and Stiles was leaning over him with a worried expression. Most of the glow was gone from Stiles' eyes except for a ring of gold around his pupil.

"How do you feel?" He asked tentatively, reaching to touch Derek's forehead.

"My forehead is pounding." Derek replied and tried to sit up.

"Whoa there, you might want to stay laying down." Stiles pushed him back. "I broke the spell and you blacked out. Lemme get you something to drink."

Derek laid back, rubbing his eyes. He felt aware for the first time in days. Like he was waking up from a really deep sleep. Every movement that Stiles made in the kitchen registered in his mind and the smells of the house around him were strong.

Stiles came back into the room with a glass of lemonade and a sandwich. "Food might help your head."

"Thank you." Derek slowly sat up and accepted the drink and food.

Both items helped the pounding in his head subside and after several minutes he was able to focus. He looked up at Stiles who was cleaning up all of his spell stuff. Derek frowned a bit as he noticed burns on Stiles' palms.

"Whoa, hey, what are you doing?" Stiles yelped a bit as Derek grabbed both of his wrists and his hands so he could see them.

"Did the spell do that?"

"The one on you? Yes. It fought pretty hard to keep from being broken. Whoever put it on you really wanted to keep you under." Stiles frowned a bit wincing as Derek ran his finger over the bubbled flesh. "I'll heal it once I finish cleaning this all up, promise."

Derek frowned and looked up at him. "You've been doing an awful lot of magic today. The magic glow is almost permanent around your pupil now."

He cupped his hand to the younger man's face. Stiles swallowed locked eyes with Derek.

"I've been teaching Lydia and then there was all that healing you needed. And then this today. A lot of magic is part of the territory." He averted his eyes and got up. "Finish your lemonade."

Derek huffed and got up, following the teenager into the kitchen. "Do you know what kind of spell I was under?"

"A glamour," Stiles replied as he scrubbed the bowl out, cussing at the tar black liquid that had solidified in the bowl. "It's kind of like putting you into a dream state. Vampires use glamours to charm their prey into submission."

"There is no such thing as vampires." Derek rolled his eyes and leaned on the counter.

"According to my mother there is." Stiles pointed at him with the gunked pestle. "Are you going to argue with Stilinski know how?"

"I just don't believe in undead blood suckers."

"Says the werewolf." Stiles laughed and went back to scrubbing. "Anyway, you were being controlled. Maybe not completely. You still had free will, but you were way more open to suggestions. Do you remember anything about the past few days?"

"I've been keeping a low profile and seeing Jennifer, mostly." Derek shrugged and then frowned a bit. "Wait."

"Jennifer? Like... English teacher Jennifer Blake?" Stiles blinked at him and turned off the water, deciding to let the stuff soak.

"I saved her from Boyd and Cora. Then again from the twins." Derek replied, putting a hand to his forehead.

"A glamour needs almost a lot of contact with the spell caster for it to be effective." Stiles frowned a bit. "If you've been spending your time with her, then it's completely possible that she's the one who cast it."

"Wouldn't I smell the magic on her? I smell the magic on you." Derek stood up straighter. He felt used and full of rage.

"Well, do you smell the magic on Deaton?" Stiles glanced at him.

"You're not suggesting what I think you are, are you?" Derek frowned.

"I think we need to go see the good doctor and maybe my dad." Stiles replied. "Grab your keys."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be from Stiles POV. :D Hopefully this was coherent? I... What is writing?
> 
> Also, I wanted this to be sort of an explanation of why Derek was sort of putty in Jennifer's hands in the series. So, yes.

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I've got for the prologue, don't know when the first chapter will be out. It'll probably jump back and forth between Stiles' and Derek's POV after this.


End file.
